Howard finally committed a blatant date sin, when we were walking outside afterwards. It was a chilly evening but, when Ali pointed out how freezing she was (a ploy to get Gareth to touch her) and I quickly pointed out how I wasn’t cold at all (so that Howard didn’t feel obliged to wrap an arm around me) Howard began to explain to me how the excess fat on my tummy (the little plumpness we all have, if we don’t live in the gym) worked like whale blubber, keeping me warm. He even suggested I put my hand up my top and feel my stomach, telling me that if my skin felt cold, my blubber was working… By the time Gareth chimed in about liposuction (I absolutely did not need liposuction) Ali gave them both a slap and we parted ways. A very weird night and, true to her promise, Ali has never asked me to go on a date with one of her lovers’ friends or relatives since.

‘I’ll pay you back one day,’ Ali says.

‘Want to go to this group therapy session for me?’ I suggest.

‘I don’t think the recast would go unnoticed,’ she points out. ‘Are you really going to go?’

I examine the donut in my hand for a second, before popping it in my mouth.

‘Yep,’ I eventually say. ‘If I want to win the competition and I want to kick Daniel and Eva’s butts…’

‘And if you want to keep hanging out with Freddie,’ she points out. ‘There’s that too.’

I purse my lips and shrug my shoulders. She’s got me there. Couples therapy sounds like an absolute nightmare but, with Freddie… I don’t know, I think it’s going to be fun.

27

Freddie and I are one of several very different couples gathered in one of the large therapy rooms.

It’s a very calming space, with light colours, soft lighting and ambient sounds drifting from the speakers.

We’re all sitting on chairs in a circle – me, Freddie, Daniel, Eva, a therapist leading the session and a bunch of other couples.

I thought for a second that perhaps Daniel and Eva wouldn’t show up, but I guess they’re in it to win it as much as I am.

Each couple is taking it in turns to speak a little about their lives together and why they have ended up giving talking therapy a go. We’re in one of the English sessions, so everyone here is from the UK or the US. I suppose it makes things easier, if everyone is speaking the same language. Victoria, our therapist today, doesn’t have an overly strong accent but I can hear the subtle Yorkshire undertones. Here in this room I could almost think I were at home in England, were it not so, so warm. Luckily the air con is keeping us cool in here; it isn’t doing much for the tempers though.

‘I’m Jen and this is my husband, Kevin,’ a woman who appears to be in her late thirties says. I instantly like her because, although she sounds quite shy, she has the same accent as I do and she’s tall. I see a lot of myself in her.